“Ravencrest needs a permanent guarantor. We ask that it be you.”
The flour merchant’s declaration changed the square.
The crowd stopped chanting.
They waited.
Evelyn stood on the damaged fountain with smoke behind her and grain being measured beneath her boots. Her uniform carried dust from the market. One hand remained near her injured shoulder, but her posture gave no ground.
Marcus watched the request strike her harder than any accusation had.
She had expected obedience.
Possibly gratitude.
Not a city asking her to stay.
Albert stood below the fountain.
The mate bond between them could not be seen, but Marcus recognized the old instinct in Albert’s body—the slight movement toward Evelyn, followed by restraint.
Lucian stood under guard near the market arch.
His expression hel
